


99. Big Changes

by alley_oops, jennandanica



Series: Citadel: Sam Worthington and Ryan Kwanten [99]
Category: Actor RPF, Australian Actor RPF, Citadel (Journalfen RPG), True Blood RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-11-03
Updated: 2008-11-03
Packaged: 2018-01-15 20:21:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,958
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1317937
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alley_oops/pseuds/alley_oops, https://archiveofourown.org/users/jennandanica/pseuds/jennandanica





	99. Big Changes

_**Sam Worthington & Ryan Kwanten discuss big changes**_  
[current; refers to decisions made in [this log](http://www.journalfen.net/users/sam_worthington/11986.html)]

 

Home a little earlier than usual, Sam finds Ryan out on the terrace, asleep on a lounger. He takes a good long look at his lover, taking in every golden inch of him, before he bends down, kissing him softly but firmly on the mouth. "Wakey-wakey," he murmurs, thinking if Ryan hasn't already made plans for dinner, he'll take him out.

Opening his eyes, Ryan smiles. "Hey. Did I miss...?" He quickly checks his watch, then links his fingers with Sam's. "You're home early. Everything okay?"

"Everything's great," Sam says, sitting down on the edge of the lounger. "We just wrapped up early." He gives Ryan a smile. "I was tempted to let you keep sleeping."

"What for?" Ryan sits up and stretches his arms over his head. Then he curls his fingers into Sam's shirt, pulling him close for another kiss.

Sam groans and licks into Ryan's mouth, any answer he might have given completely forgotten.

God, that's good. Ryan scoots closer, pressing himself against his lover. He wraps his thighs around Sam and slips a hand beneath his shirt to caress warm skin.

Sam bites at Ryan's lips, catching the bottom one between his teeth and tugging. His own hands sliding over Ryan's back, pulling him still closer. Until he's achingly hard and can't stand it any longer. "I want your mouth," he says, panting softly as he pulls back.

Swallowing hard, Ryan nods. He untangles himself and goes to his knees on the patio, already reaching for Sam's belt. Pulling down his jeans, he grazes his lips over his lover's cock, teasing, breathing him in before he sucks the crown into his mouth.

"Oh fuck," Sam murmurs, his head going back for a moment, eyes closed. "Mm." A soft sound of pleasure escaping as his hands slide into Ryan's hair, urging him on. Gently. For now.

Ryan begins to suck, lapping at the length of Sam's cock in between bobs of his head. He can feel the sun beating down on his shoulders, can feel a light sheen of sweat on his skin. He strokes his hands over Sam's thighs, and dips down to take his lover's balls into his mouth.

Sam gasps, hands tightening against Ryan's scalp, nails scraping skin. "Oh fuck, that's good," he whispers.

Humming his agreement, Ryan sucks harder. He closes his fist around Sam's cock and begins to work the hard length, wondering if he can bring his lover off just like this.

Sam groans roughly, feeling the first strong pull in his groin, the one that tells him he's not going to last much longer. "Close," he warns, letting Ryan keep going for a moment longer before he adds, "I want to come on your face."

Pausing for just a moment, Ryan whimpers. _Fuck yes._ He scrapes his thumbnail over the head of Sam's cock, looking up to meet his lover's eyes.

Sam groans again, the sound deep and ragged. He pushes to his feet, cock aimed at Ryan's face, and smiles, their eyes locked, his orgasm _right there_. "Come on, boy. Make me come. Paint your face with it."

A flash of a wicked grin, and then Ryan angles his head to press his lips to the root of Sam's cock. He sucks fiercely, brutally drawing blood to the surface in a hot bruise. Shutting his eyes, he tips his head back again and strokes fast.

There's no way Sam can hold out against that. Not against how fucking good it feels and certainly not against the way Ryan's intent to mark him makes his stomach flip and his cock throb and snaps that coiled arousal so fucking hard he bites his tongue holding back the shout he'd otherwise let ring across the fucking mountainside. Pleasure crashing over him in waves as streak after streak of white stripes Ryan's face.

Ryan moans brokenly, parting his lips. Warmth splashes on his cheeks, in his mouth, and he swallows. "Sir," he whispers, cupping Sam's ass and squeezing.

"You look so beautiful," Sam whispers, cupping Ryan's head in his hands, thumb tracing the lines of his cheekbones. "C'mere," he says, tugging Ryan to his feet.

Standing up, Ryan tangles his fingers in Sam's hair and crushes their mouths together. Instantly he moans at the unexpected taste of blood. "You bit yourself?" he asks, breathless, but doesn't let his lover have a chance to answer before he's hungrily devouring him once more.

"I was trying not to yell," Sam says between kisses, tasting blood in his mouth and on Ryan's tongue. "Hold still," he murmurs, licking the come from Ryan's skin.

Shivering at the touch, Ryan gives a soft moan. He curls his fingers into the worn fabric of Sam's t-shirt, keeping his lover close even if he should go to pull away. "Sir..." he whispers, feeling his cock give a throb of frustrated lust at each wicked drag of Sam's tongue. "Will you touch me? Please?"

"Is that all you want?" Sam teases, kissing along the curve of Ryan's jaw, hands flicking open the button of his cargo shorts and pushing them down. "For me to touch you?" he whispers, wrapping his fingers around Ryan's hot hard flesh.

Ryan whimpers, immediately moving to rub against his lover. "Please," he gasps, hungrily licking at Sam's neck, using the utmost self-control to keep himself from sucking, biting. "Please let me come for you, Sir."

Sam smiles, roughly working Ryan's cock, thumbnail digging into the head, into the slit, as he squeezes and strokes. "Maybe..."

 _Maybe._ Fuck. Ryan groans and massages his fingers over Sam's nape. "Anything I can do to change that 'maybe' to a 'yes'?"

Sam grins. "If I wasn't touching you," he says, still stroking, still pinching, that nail digging in harder. "Could you come just by rubbing against me?"

"Yes," Ryan gasps, bucking into Sam's hand. _Fuck,_ that touch lights him up, pain slicing through him. "Please!"

"Then do it," Sam orders, releasing his grip on Ryan's cock.

In an instant Ryan is wrapped around his lover, frantically rubbing against him. Fucking dry-humping him in broad daylight, and he couldn't fucking care less. He chokes back a cry and sprays over Sam's jeans, rubbing his cock slick in his own come. Shivering as the rough denim abrades tender skin.

As simple as it is, it's one of the hottest fucking things Sam's ever had Ryan do and despite softening his cock jerks when the wet heat soaks through his jeans. "Good boy," Sam murmurs, wrapping his arms around Ryan and hugging him close.

Ryan moans against Sam's neck. Fuck, he feels good right now. "I think you need another shower," he whispers, slowly licking along his lover's jaw.

" _We_ need another shower," Sam says with a grin, shivering lightly. "And then I'll take you to dinner. Okay?"

"Mmm, sounds good," Ryan agrees, easing back. "I'm starving." He hitches his shorts up, then links their fingers together and heads into the house.

Sam strips off his clothes in the bedroom, dropping shirt and jeans into the hamper. "Hey," he fishes the jeans back out. "Phil sent me this for you," he says, digging out an envelope and tossing it to Ryan. "He also set up the direct payment thing for your salary. It'll go in on the first of each month."

"My salary?" Ryan asks. He opens the envelope to find a credit card in his name, and he bites his lip at the shiny new potential of it. "How much?"

"Um. Ten thousand a month minus taxes... I think he said you'll see roughly sixty-five or sixty-six," Sam says, stretching out his back and neck.

"Dollars?" Ryan asks, even though he knows it's a stupid question the second it passes his lips. "But that's, like, one hundred twenty thousand a year." What the hell is he going to do with all that money? "For what, cooking you dinner?" Sam's got to be kidding.

Sam shrugs. "Phil said it's the going rate for personal assistants and it's not just cooking me dinner. It's doing groceries, keeping house, laundry, making appointments and crap for me."

Kicking his shorts off, Ryan sits down heavily on the bed. _Fuck_. He is so fucking uncomfortable with this. "I need... I need to research that," he murmurs. "Find out more about what they do." Maybe if he works his ass off as Sam's assistant, then he won't feel so damn guilty about all this.

"It's just a title," Sam says, not really sure why Ryan looks so unhappy. "You don't actually have to do all the shit they do. I wouldn't want that," he points out.

"Why not?" Ryan asks, looking up at him. "I mean if you're paying me for it, then I should be doing the work."

"Except that I can get my own ass to work and I don't need you going through my email or answering all my calls," Sam says. "This whole thing's supposed to be for show. To make it easier for you and me to be together."

Ryan frowns, his mouth pinched. "I don't like the idea of you paying me for nothing," he says softly. "I mean, the housework, the cooking... I'd do that anyway. Because I already live here, and do it rent-free. And because I love you."

Sam sighs, leaning back against the dresser. "So what would make you feel better about taking it?" he asks. "If you _were_ sorting through my email and answering my calls?"

"No," Ryan says, shaking his head. Christ, what an invasion of privacy that would be. "I just... shit." He drops his head into his hands. He's not even exactly sure why this all bothers him so much, except that it seems vaguely... whorish. "You know, it drove Andrew mad when I had a job and he didn't," he says conversationally, recalling that he once told Sam this about his former sir. "He couldn't take it. His ego couldn't take it."

"But you have a job," Sam says. "This is something you're doing on the side and if it makes it better think of it this way," he adds, going to sit beside Ryan. "I can't put money away for you. I can't draw up a will and make sure you're taken care of if something happens to me. This does that. You can take this salary and put a large part of it into some sort of savings and I'll be able to rest easier knowing you have that."

God, it hurts just to think about that, just to absorb Sam's words. Ryan links his fingers with Sam's and squeezes. "I love you. I love that you care enough about me to think that way," he says softly. He rests his head on his lover's shoulder, rubbing his cheek against warm skin. "But you're not allowed to have anything happen to you. I forbid it. And you'd better listen."

"I know, and chances are, we'll get to have a long happy life together," Sam says. He wants that more than anything. "And some day, I'll be able to make sure you get everything if something _does_ happen, but right now, this is the way it needs to be."

Fuck, it's so morbid. But it certainly alters Ryan's way of seeing the situation. "Okay," he whispers finally, half-scared that he's jinxing himself - jinxing them - as he does it. "But since I'm so graciously agreeing to your plan, then I expect to be well-compensated," he insists, not quite able to get the tease into his voice. "Lots of sex."

"Lots of sex," Sam agrees. "Tons," he promises, pushing Ryan back onto the bed and kissing him.  



End file.
